


Four-In-Hand

by BaggerHeda



Series: Hey, Nice Tie [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: A real tie this time, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Nicole wears a tie, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, and they have sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 05:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15235965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaggerHeda/pseuds/BaggerHeda
Summary: Setting her fisted hands at her waist and looking herself over head to toe, Nicole asked, “How do I look?”Waverly put her hands on Nicole’s hips and spun her in a full circle, Nicole’s arms raising up a bit as she twirled. Waverly wracked her brain for the right word. “You look … sharp,” she said with warmth in her voice, grinning at how devastatingly attractive Nicole looked in that vest and tie. “You look like some kind of steampunk dandy, and all the girls are going to swoon.”*****Waverly selects Nicole’s outfit for their night out, and they both appreciate the results.





	Four-In-Hand

“Are you going to dress up tomorrow night, sweetie?” asked Waverly, again. She rifled through her closet, looking for options.

“What, you mean like my good sweatpants?” teased Nicole, sitting crosslegged on the bed.

Waverly threw a look over her shoulder and huffed, irritated for a moment. “No, _really._ What are you going to wear?”

They had tickets to the opera. A real freakin’ _opera,_ thought Waverly, a thing she’d always wanted to see. Well, she’d seen one on television once, but she itched to see a live performance, imagining feats of extreme musicality pulled off right before her eyes, a whiff of magic and miracles. Nicole found out, by accident. Later, long enough for Waverly to forget the conversation, she’d arranged a couple of tickets to see _Der Rosenkavalier._ It was a limited engagement put on by a fairly renowned traveling company, in the big city. Waverly was both _super_ excited and a little nervous. It wasn’t the Met in New York City, all _de rigueur_ tuxedos and gowns and diamonds, but they were going to need to dress up. Obvi. She didn’t want to stand out like some clearly out-of-place small-town hick.

“Maybe … the purple dress?” said Nicole, uncertainty in her voice, one side of her mouth quirking up in a half-smile, half-grimace. “I haven’t worn it since…”

“The Solstice party,” said Waverly, cutting her off. On the plus side, Nicole looked stunning wearing it. On the minus side, she could barely think about that dress or that party without the terror of the night and the next day flooding back again, vivid enough to spike a shiver of cold down her spine: the whole town poisoned and going mad, the cruel flat smile on Willa’s face before she lifted the gun and pulled the trigger, the awful weight of Bobo’s words, the shining black pool that was the door to her own descent into madness. _Nope, no way, nuh uh._ Still way too many negatives outweighing the positives on this one. Waverly sighed, shaking off the memory. “No,” she said, “I think you should wear something else.” She pulled something out of the closet, offering it to Nicole. “Here, try this.”

Nicole stood as Waverly handed her the garment, running her fingertips over the front of it. “Wow, this is nice.” It was a brocade vest, a little long in the waist, a rich deep green and black pattern shot through with silver, a piece of obvious quality, beautifully lined in silk. “Where did this come from?”

“I found it a while ago when I was thrifting, it didn’t fit me but I think it might fit you?” Waverly said, her face scrunching a little. Nicole was lucky, she thought, all tall and elegantly proportioned, she could wear anything she wanted, so many looks were great on her. She leaned against the doorframe of the closet, eager and curious. “Go on. Try it on.”

Nicole held it up to her chest, then took it from the hanger and slipped it on, buttoning it over the t-shirt she was wearing. “Ooh, I _like_ this,” she murmured, turning this way and that in front of the mirror, admiring herself, and Waverly could only nod in agreement. It fit Nicole perfectly, like it had been made for her, draping across the width of her strong shoulders and highlighting the shape of her waist, the curve of her hips. Nicole ran her hands down, over the buttons and the watch pocket, tugged it lower at the bottom edge. “Maybe … with some nice black pants?”

Waverly breathed out, an almost-silent whistle of appreciation. “It’s perfect. Yes, black pants, and do you have a nice dress shirt?”

“The white shirt with the French cuffs,” said Nicole. She turned away from the mirror and came to stand in front of Waverly, slipping her arms around her waist and leaning down for a light kiss. “So, you’ll let me borrow this?”

“I’m _giving_ it to you,” said Waverly with a small shrug, tilting her head up with a smile. “I can’t wear it, but it looks amazeballs on you.” It really did. Waverly swept her hands over Nicole’s breasts, laid her palms flat against her collarbones, feeling the texture of the brocade under her fingertips, the swirling crosshatch of the threads barely discernible to the eye but plain to the touch. She tried to imagine how it would look with a proper collar. Had there been time, she thought she could talk Nicole into wearing something with a vintage detachable collar, starched to within an inch of its life, or maybe an Italian collar with short points, but … she knew the shirt Nicole was talking about, and it would do. “You should wear it with a tie.”

Nicole cocked her head slightly, the tiniest of smirks playing across her mouth.

“And _not_ the clip-on. A proper tie,” growled Waverly.

“Done,” said Nicole, with the 1000-watt smile.

*****

Nicole arrived at the homestead the next evening, to pick her up for their night out, and Waverly had stood there like a stunned duck, rendered speechless by how well the whole outfit worked together.

_Holy flippin’ shitstickers, my girlfriend is SO fucking gorgeous._

The black pants tapered at the ankles, riding over pointy short boots buffed to perfection, accentuating the lovely length of Nicole’s legs. The immaculate white shirt was a sublime fit underneath the snug, sleek lines of the brocade vest, the green of it setting off the glorious red of her hair. Nicole had chosen onyx drop earrings with matching cufflinks adorning her wrists, shiny black rectangles that drew the eye to the slender strong hands Waverly adored. It was quite a lot, in the very best way. There was just one problem, she thought: the tie was wrong.

“That tie is wrong,” she blurted out.

“What?” said Nicole, brow wrinkling.

“Wrong. You need one without patterns. That one has dots. C’mon,” said Waverly, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her inside, toward the stairs. Her mind was racing: she was _almost_ sure she knew where the one she wanted was, a plain black tie, narrow, handsewn, a thing she had bought for Champ but he had never worn; now it could be put to much better use.

“But, I, I …” stuttered Nicole as Waverly pulled her up the stairs. “This is the best one I had.”

Once they’d reached the bedroom, Waverly let go of Nicole’s hand and yanked open the dresser drawer that held the miscellany that couldn’t find a home elsewhere, frantically digging toward the back. Her fingers curled around the narrow flat box crammed there. “Here, here it is!” she cried, pulling it out and flinging the top of the box to one side. Nicole pursed her lips, like she always did when Waverly threw stuff on the floor. Waverly ignored it. “Off,” she said, turning back to Nicole with a glare. “Take that one off.”

“Um. Take off … my tie?” Nicole’s hands hesitated, before finally lifting and beginning to loosen the knot.

Waverly waited, jiggling with impatience, and as soon as Nicole had pulled the tie free of her neck, she reached up. Flipping the collar upright, she looped the new tie around, turned the collar back down, and pulled the ends so the wide one was hanging low, before she looked up. Nicole was watching her wide-eyed, and maybe just slightly startled. It suddenly dawned on her that she was railroading her girlfriend maybe just a _little_ bit. “Um, uh,” Waverly stammered, “so, did you want to tie this?”

The wide-eyed, startled look was now sliding into a crooked grin. “Oh, no,” said Nicole, equal parts warm and sarcastic. “Please go on.”

Waverly studied Nicole’s face for a long moment, the gentle dimpled smile carrying no bite to it, and decided that, well, she’d gotten this far, she might as well finish. “Four-in-hand,” she murmured to herself, deciding. She bit her lip in concentration, winding the tie into the shape she wanted. Over, under, around, up, through. Nicole just stood, holding still but watching her every move.

It wasn’t until Waverly finished that Nicole spoke, saying, “That’s not a regular knot, is it?”

“Uh, actually, you probably know this one, the four-in-hand,” said Waverly, “but maybe it’s backwards from how you’d tie it. Did you want a different one, like a half windsor?” She paused, frowning critically. “This has a smallish knot, I thought it would look good with this collar.” She tightened it down and snugged it up, pleased with getting the length of the two sides right on her first attempt.

“It’s fine.” Nicole was chuckling, snickering really, under her breath. Waverly frowned; if there was a joke here she wasn’t seeing it, and besides, she was just trying to help her girlfriend look _good._ Nicole took over, batting Waverly’s hands away lightly and cinching the tie to the desired tightness, tucking the ends inside the vest, then checked her reflection. “I see what you mean, this tie really is better,” she murmured. Setting her fisted hands at her waist and looking herself over head to toe, Nicole asked, “How do I look?”

Waverly put her hands on Nicole’s hips and spun her in a full circle, Nicole’s arms raising up a bit as she twirled. Waverly wracked her brain for the right word. “You look … sharp,” she said with warmth in her voice, grinning at how devastatingly attractive Nicole looked in that vest and tie. “You look like some kind of steampunk dandy, and all the girls are going to swoon.”

“Going to swoon?” laughed Nicole, blushing. Waverly smiled at the little head dip and the way Nicole’s tongue peeked out to lick her upper lip, that small proud-shy thing she did, and Waverly decided she should compliment Nicole more, a _lot_ more, like maybe a thousand times a day because she deserved it for sure.

“You bet,” said Waverly, lifting up to her tiptoes to brush a kiss to Nicole’s cheek. “C’mon. Let’s go to the opera.”

*****

Waverly chattered happily all the way home, about the music, about the costumes, about how the fellow who sang the part of Baron Ochs auf Lerchenau strutted self-importantly around the stage in a way that made her laugh.

“I am so glad you enjoyed yourself tonight,” said Nicole, smiling from the driver’s seat.

“I sure did,” said Waverly. Her mind was still whirling with all that she’d experienced, so many new things to comb through in memory, details to catalog. She felt the warm glow of happiness radiating through her, that Nicole had chosen to share it with her, another example of her endless thoughtfulness. “I liked you sitting there all handsome next to me, too.” She drew a fingertip, slowly, down the length of Nicole’s forearm, until Nicole’s hand came off the steering wheel and tangled with hers, their fingers twining. Waverly gave a small squeeze, which Nicole returned.

“Handsome, huh,” scoffed Nicole with an amused rumble. “I’m arm candy now, I see how it is.”

“Maaaybe,” singsonged Waverly. “Maybe I put you in all these fancy clothes because I really, really like taking them off of you.”

Nicole flashed the brilliant grin, the one full of dimples and smokey heat, the one that sparked an instant response in her belly and lower, and left her thighs damp. They were almost home. Nicole’s voice came teasing, both silk and gravel. “Is that so.”

*****

Some nights, Nicole liked to linger downstairs before getting ready for bed, calm and placid in the comforts of her home. She might read a book, or snuggle with Calamity Jane for a while, or maybe watch a little Netflix with Waverly, sitting close and running her fingers lazily through her girlfriend’s hair.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

They found themselves upstairs, in Nicole’s bedroom, a bare minimum amount of time after they’d arrived. Waverly paused a single moment, standing there full of yearning just from the way Nicole’s eyes raked over her, and now Nicole was reaching forward, hands on her thighs, rucking up the skirt she was wearing, the grasp of her palms fiery as they slid over her skin. “Baby,” Nicole breathed out, barely above a whisper, so much reverence and naked want carried in one simple word that Waverly wanted to climb inside it and live forever.

“God, Nicole,” Waverly whimpered. “Are you … will you …” The attraction, the desire between them had been low-key all night, a little flirty, a little fun. Suddenly it had flared, roared to life like a grassfire caught by the prairie wind, Waverly felt it sweep through her and set her aglow like sparks flying, leaving her trembling and sighing and with an aching throb between her legs. _Holy shit_ but she didn’t even have words for how much she wanted, how much she needed Nicole. It was as elemental as the air in her lungs, the blood in her veins, she had no choice but to grab on and hold tight with furious greed, her lips meeting Nicole’s like the shock of a thunderclap, her entire body jolting in pleasurable response.

Nicole bent to her need, matching the fury of her kiss, until they were both panting and helplessly pawing at the clothes still covering them both.

“You dressed me,” gasped Nicole, as they finally broke apart for a moment. “Now undress me.”

“You know I will,” said Waverly, roughly. “C’mere.” Nicole’s bedroom wasn’t large and Waverly didn’t have to work hard to maneuver them into place. With her arms wound around Nicole’s neck and their mouths sliding slick and heated, it was only a few steps until she’d reached the edge of the bed. Nicole’s clever tongue explored, tracing between her lips, and then Waverly threaded her fingers in with the satiny fabric of the tie. She sat, a slow graceful recline, dragging Nicole down and over her, enjoying the flare of lust that flickered over Nicole’s face as she did.

“You’ve been wanting to do that for a while, haven’t you,” Nicole growled. She brought one firm thigh up between Waverly’s legs and pressed in, and Waverly groaned with need, the contact was heavenly and it wasn’t nearly enough and her head had started to spin, her body writhing with want. She ground herself against Nicole’s leg, lifting her hips, inviting more.

“Why do you think I had you wear it?” Waverly replied, breathless. Nicole let herself be pulled down the rest of the way, Waverly barely tugging on the necktie to bring their mouths together again in a long, deep kiss. Waverly let go of the tie and both her hands drifted down to the small of Nicole’s back, and lower, pulling Nicole’s shirttails loose, slipping her hands under the waistband of Nicole’s pants and inside her boxers, soft cotton stretched delightfully snug, palming over the fine shape of her ass. Waverly squeezed, pulling their bodies close in to each other, delighting in the feel of the firm muscles working there, as Nicole’s hips rolled and moved with their arousal, growing demanding.

But the clothing had to go, like _right away,_ and in their hurry they turned things a little rough. Waverly’s fingers moved with purpose now, and their hands clashed and bumped, busy stripping each other, buttons and zippers giving way, skin bared to the cool air. Waverly felt herself becoming frantic, her body blazing and insistent. “Off, off,” she murmured, pushing Nicole’s pants down from her hips. Nicole was matching her, pulling Waverly’s blouse off, lifting it up and over her head, then deftly unhooking her bra and pulling it free. Waverly’s breasts spilled out, immediately caught again as Nicole’s hands shaped to the sides of them, and she pressed her face between, then turned to lick and suck and play at the hardening nipples, as Waverly arched and groaned underneath the redhead.

Waverly was most of the way to bare by now, thanks to Nicole’s efforts, and nimble fingers were twisting under the hem of her panties, drawing them down. Lips traveled down the length of her torso and back up, Nicole’s questing mouth painting electric trails of desire across the expanse of her skin. She came up again to nuzzle under Waverly’s jaw, her tongue broad and wet and warm as she pressed rough kisses to Waverly’s throat. “How?” came Nicole’s question, drifting to Waverly’s ears sweet like honey but also urgent, the thing she almost always asked, the rumble of it sliding heated against her skin just like Nicole’s lips were doing, making Waverly clench, sizzling with need. Strong hands were moving all over her, skin to skin, Waverly giving over and letting herself be swept into the irresistible current of their arousal, letting it take her where it would.

“Please,” she begged, gasping softly. “I want you. l, I want to touch you.”

It wasn’t until Nicole had kicked off her pants and undershorts, and had risen to her knees to finally tug loose the necktie still hanging at her neck, that Waverly saw her chance and took it. Her hands slid down to ride against the curves of Nicole’s hips, then one traveled lower, finding damp red curls and slick heat, slipping inside as Nicole undid the final button of the dress shirt and shucked it away. “Ah-h-h,” Nicole breathed out, dropping the shirt off the side of the bed. Waverly felt the ripple of pleasure pass through both of their bodies, the shockwave echoing the thud of her heart and momentarily stealing the breath from her lungs, and she could no longer wait, not one second more - she needed to make Nicole come, hard.

“Okay?” she asked, ragged. If Nicole wanted her hand, if Nicole wanted her mouth, or something else, anything else - she would do it.

“Okay,” growled Nicole, and Waverly pressed in with two fingers, a long deep stroke. _God_ it was the most delicious thing ever, to watch Nicole like that, to see her tremble and arch, to see her whole body shudder with need, unleashed. She was just so _beautiful,_ so much power in her as she began taking her pleasure this way, pale skin shining and flushed with heat, her body rising as she rode Waverly’s hand. Her torso rolled with the work of it, the rise and fall, and then Nicole pitched forward some, down to her hands above Waverly, and now it was easier, Waverly could reach exactly how she wanted. She threw herself into the dance in earnest, determined in her thrust, awash in the awe and ecstatic wonder of Nicole rippling hot and wet and silk against her fingers.

“So wet,” she groaned, low and hoarse. “You’re so fucking wet.” Waverly could feel her own wetness as well, painting wide and slick against Nicole’s naked thigh pressed hard against her core, her hips grinding in mindless need. She curled her fingers, pushing forward as she delved, riding high on Nicole’s pleasured sighs and moans in response. “Is this, is this good?” she husked out.

“Good. Good. You make me, you’re gonna make me, uh,” Nicole said, trailing off as her back bent and her fingers wound into Waverly’s hair. She’d brought her forehead to rest against Waverly’s, her red hair falling loose and curtaining both their faces. Waverly drank in the closeness. Of all the fantastic ways Nicole came, she thought, this might be her favorite, face to face and breathing each other in, the intimacy unbearable. Nicole was crying out now, words and syllables falling from her mouth to Waverly’s, the _yes ah yes yes_ a river of pleasure flowing endless between them, and as she broke apart and sailed free, shouting and clenching down on Waverly’s fingers, the force of her orgasm was enough to carry Waverly along as well, thighs clamping down on Nicole’s. Waverly arched, every muscle pulling tight, and fell away, her own joyful shout mixing into the sweet tumbled noises that filled the room.

*****

Afterward. Afterward was best, too, thought Waverly. The roar and the rumble was magnificent, but the way Nicole wrapped her up in her arms and lay quiet with her as they drifted back to calm, that filled her heart to bursting with just as much warm happiness.

Nicole was pressing many, many soft kisses to the side of her face. “Who knew,” she murmured, “that neckties could get you going so much.”

Waverly giggled. “I think it’s _you_ that gets me going so much. You thought it was the tie?” She stroked her hand across Nicole’s face, fingertips trailing over the dark eyebrows hiding under her mussed red hair, tracing the length of her jaw.

“Ha. Maybe, maybe not,” said Nicole. “But since you did enjoy it a bunch, maybe you could teach me that other knot you know?” She raised herself up on one elbow, looking down into Waverly’s face with that easy, brilliant smile Waverly adored.

“I know a lot of them, which one do you want - ” Waverly started to ask, before stopping herself. _Gah, not the right way to word it._ She tried again. “How many ways do you know how to tie a tie?”

“Um, just the one?” said Nicole, looking a little chagrined.

“Okay, the knot that most people know is called the four-in-hand, and it’s also called the ‘schoolboy knot’ because … um.” She stopped again, to curse her brain for getting so damned _pedantic_ at stupidly inconvenient times, but Nicole had rolled over onto her back and was laughing, snickering a really smutty kind of laugh that Waverly had rarely heard from the redhead before, and _wow_ it was confusing. “What?” she demanded.

“Sorry,” said Nicole, between lewd chortles. “I, um. It’s kind of inappropriate.”

“Now you _gotta_ tell me,” said Waverly, wiggling her body closer to Nicole’s.

“It involves an ex,” said Nicole, her eyes flicking up to Waverly’s, down again with a tinge of embarrassment.

“It’s okay, tell me,” said Waverly.

“Well, okay, I dated this girl in college,” said Nicole, before she looked back up and met Waverly’s eyes, saying, “it was a long time ago and only for a short time.” Waverly nodded, encouraging; she knew she wasn’t going to be mad at Nicole for who she slept with back when. Nicole continued, “Anyway, she had this crappy vibrator that ate batteries like nobody’s business, and that was its nickname, Four In Hand, because it seemed she was always running to get four double A’s.” Nicole chuckled. “And I didn’t realise the name came from somewhere else.” Seeing Waverly’s wide-eyed stare, her laughter stuttered to a halt. “I, um, I told you it was inappropriate.”

“Are you telling me,” Waverly said slowly, “that you have a vibrator around here that you never told me about?” Because _holy fuck._ Just when she thought she’d figured out Nicole and the surprising depths of her sexual adventurousness (hallelujah) something new would come to light, like this. _A new toy they hadn’t tried yet._

“Well, not _that_ one,” said Nicole, a little shy, a little smug. “The one I have is _quite_ a bit better.”

“Hoo boy,” growled Waverly, as she climbed atop Nicole’s chest and pinned her down, the wicked smile wreathing Nicole’s face igniting her once more. “I’d say you have some ‘splaining to do.” She leaned in, letting her breath trail hot and quick along the side of Nicole’s throat, before whispering in her ear.

“Show me?”

**Author's Note:**

> I love these characters so much.
> 
> Second part of the One Last Smutty WayHaught Story before the start of season three.  
> This story is sparked by the “Nicole wears a tie” frenzy from a couple of the promo videos released before the season premiere. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Many, many thanks to [LuckyWantsToKnow](http://twitter.com/moxiepurzell) for Awesome Beta Duty™.
> 
> Leave a comment or kudo, if you will! Also, you can find me flailing about on Twitter: [@boo_in_la](http://twitter.com/boo_in_la)


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